


homme, ta cage j'abandonne

by bukkunkun



Series: The Metaverse Hotel and Casino [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst and Porn, Auctions, BDSM Scene, Bad Dirty Talk, Bunny Girl, Burlesque, But for Good Reason, Casinos, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Gratuitous Smut, Infidelity, Kimono, M/M, Out of Character, Porn With Plot, Prequel, Rimming, School Uniforms, Secret Identity, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Shower Sex, Slut Shaming, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Virginity or Celibacy Kink, bad porn dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: (man, I'm abandoning your cage)tie-in/spin-off to Beginner's Luck.The story of how Akira met Arsene Lupin, and became the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse Casino.Contains a lot of mob/akira. You have been warned.





	homme, ta cage j'abandonne

**Author's Note:**

> hi i thought this was a great idea (it was not) because i never got to explain how akira became the crown jewel of the metaverse. you will need to have read at least up until chapter 21 of [Beginner's Luck](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11252271) to understand what's going on. i think.
> 
> contains copious amount of french. i'm so, so sorry.
> 
> title (and many of the french lines) based/taken from [Homme by Brazilian Girls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CXmQREsu4U). 
> 
>  
> 
> **CONTAINS COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF MOB/AKIRA. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

Diamonds did not show up with precise cuts that created heart and arrow fractals with every angle of light that hit it. It occurs in nature as a nugget of solid carbon, jagged and unrefined.

Like a lotus, it blossoms in the face of adversity, and becomes all the more valuable for it.

Akira Kurusu was a young man who had his life thrown away at 16, tossed into ill-fitting clothes to service the scum of the earth with his hands, his ass, his mouth, his tongue. A diamond in the rough, at the start, he was slated to be thrown away, until one fateful night when blood painted the floor of The Metaverse Hotel and Casino, and Akira learned to take his life back.

“You’re a phantom thief, right?” He asked, voice barely a whisper in the darkness of a cheap little hotel room near the bottom floors of The Metaverse, and the young Frenchman he sat next to gave him a withering look. Silk gloves were wet with blood and tears, and hearts shattered at the sounds of gunshots that rang barely an hour ago.

“And you, _mon chéri,_ are but a child, correct?” The man’s voice was flat, heavy with grief, none of the saccharine charm he had a while ago now audible in his tone. The man still refused to look at him, and Akira frowned.

“That’s not important.”

“It is very much important, you damned fool. I will not sleep with you. Absolutely not.” The man snarled, facing away from him. Akira flinched, and tried again.

“The man earlier called you Arsene Lupin. You’re that international phantom thief, right?” He asked, and the man finally looked at him properly, dark circles under his red eyes.

“I am considering abandoning that occupation.” He replied, scathing and bitter. “What is it to you?”

Akira hesitated for a moment, and took a deep breath before taking his mask off. “My name is Akira Suou.” He said quietly, as if imparting a secret—and by all things considered, he was. Shido’s rules for The Metaverse forbade anyone giving out their true identities, and all the people that Akira had slept with never took their masks off.

But he knew—he just _knew_ —this Arsene Lupin was a man he could trust.

“Haven’t you heard the law of this place about not giving out real names?” Arsene scoffed, shaking his head, and Akira could see the glint in the man’s eye. Pity, and pain—perhaps at him, the teenaged prostitute in a seedy, dark casino.

“You’re a phantom thief that the police is looking for, but never got to. That means you’ve been disguising yourself really well, right?” Akira pushed on, not answering the man’s question, and Arsene looked at him witheringly.

“Yes.” He replied reluctantly. “What of it?”

“That means you understand people very well.”

“One could say that, yes.” Arsene looked down at his bloodied silk gloves forlornly. “I had to learn how to be observant in order to properly impersonate people. I had to know what kind of person they are by a simple glance.”

Akira nodded, and Arsene’s eyes widened as they met, red and grey, and in them he could see not defeat—but burning determination and _fury_.

“Teach me.” Akira said simply.

Arsene blinked at the young prostitute—a _prostitute,_ at 16, dear _god_ —his own eyes still not quite dry from loss, at the prospect of a life without _him_.

He was surprised he could even talk.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Teach me how to read people. You said you know what kind of person people are by just looking at them, right?” Akira spoke pointedly, with the force of a man who knew what he wanted—no, what he _needed_. Arsene looked him over—the cheongsam he wore was beautiful, a deep red that bled like fresh blood on snow, but the way Akira wore it was clumsy, ill-fitted and awkward. The boy barely wore any makeup, and the lipstick didn’t quite fill out his lips the way the it did for the more expensive prostitutes.

Then again, compared to them, Akira’s base value was pretty much loose change, and Arsene couldn’t help but pity him.

“Help me become so damn important to Shido that he can’t get rid of me.”

The thief’s eyes widened. Now he understood—in order to survive in The Metaverse, you had to be of some worth to its king, Masayoshi Shido. Like a luxury cruise ship, people without a boarding pass could be denied entry—or at worst, thrown overboard. Arsene was a thief—he could easily manage a way to stay afloat on Shido’s ship of debauchery, but Akira…

Akira had no other choice. This was the only way Akira could survive.

But this was dangerous. This would drag him through the depths of hell and back, involving himself with a lowly cheap prostitute that would last only a few weeks before he broke like a cheap little doll. The image of this boy’s dead body in an alleyway, broken, bruised and bleeding filled Arsene’s mind, and his heart broke for him.

Akira was just a _child._ What else could he do for him?

“What will I get in return?” He asked, not quite believing the sound of his own voice in his ears, but Akira wasn’t any less determined.

In fact, the rage in his eyes only seemed to glow brighter.

“I’ll avenge _him_ ,” he said, fiercely, a good man gone off to war. “I’ll avenge everyone Shido dared to hurt, and I’ll even let you watch the casino burn.”

The look in his eyes was not one a 16-year-old should have, but Arsene knew grief, pain and rage chose no age.

He offered Akira his hand.

“Very well… I have heeded your resolve.” He said, voice unwavering, spurred by the fire in the boy’s eyes. “I will teach you how to seduce your way to power, my little Crown Jewel.”

Akira took his hand, and shook it once, grip tight.

“Make me into a diamond, Lupin-san.”

* * *

  _Donne l'impression d'un petit bonhomme._

_(Gives the impression of a little man or a child)_

_Sometimes a man likes an innocent glaze in the eyes, a sort of purity that children have that drives the scum of the earth to lust over something they can corrupt with whatever depraved part of their bodies they can use to sully you._

Joker tiptoed awkwardly around the table, hiding behind an empty tray that once held three flutes of champagne for the gentlemen at the poker table, engaged intently on a game—

No, not all of them—that rotund man there, in an ill-fitting suit with buttons stretched over a hairy beer belly eyed him with a hunger of a wolf staring down a fearful rabbit. Joker squeaked softly, squirming away with a shyness that only made the man’s lecherous grin widen, and his tablemates turned to him in suspicion.

“You cheatin’ there, Agathion?” one of them snarled at him, and he shook his head, snickering as he lowered his head as if to share a conspiratorial secret with his comrades.

“Look at that cute little bunny over there.” He muttered, gesturing at Joker, who withered slightly away from their sudden gazes on him, hiding behind his tray that hid little of his body to them.

That night had Joker in a bunny leotard, simple deep black and shiny and far too short to let him wear any underthings save for a black lace thong, which still peeked out from underneath the leotard. His stockings were black, hugging his legs tightly to the point they were almost translucent, and his shoes were a simple deep black pair of high heels. There was a white lace collar around his throat, a cute little bell that tinkled with his movement holding it closed, and around his wrists were a pair of delicate white lace bracelets. His bunny ears—white, on a headband—went slightly crooked, but he made no move to fix it. He felt the masked man—Agathion’s lecherous gaze on him, and he flushed, making a feeble attempt to cover up.

_Play up your innocence. Drive him wild with some semblance of purity he can defile. Protest weakly, pretend not to know what he is up to._

“Hey, you. Over here.”

“Y-yes, sir?” Joker stammered, shrinking back as best as he could as he obediently strode to Agathion’s side, squeaking when he felt the man feel him up. “A-ah, wh-what are you doing, sir?”

“You’re very cute, aren’t you?” The man snickered, “Lovely. The leotard suits you, little bunny.” He groped Joker’s ass through the cloth, bulging sweetly and deliciously plump under his hand. Joker moaned softly, twitching helplessly in the man’s hold as he began to tremble. “Aw, cat got your tongue?”

“Turning in early, Agathion?” Another masked man at the table leered, “Looks like you got a cute little thing there you can play with.”

“You look young.” Agathion sneered, lifting Joker’s face to look into teary grey eyes underneath a pied mask. “How old are you, little bunny?”

_Oftentimes, these kinds of heathens prefer them younger. Don’t overshoot your age, but don’t make yourself look too old, as well. Be careful to match what kind of makeup you’re wearing, and try not to use smoky looks. Look as young and as rosy as possible._

“F-fourteen, sir.” Joker replied shyly, “I-I know I’m young, b-but I’ll do my best to serve you well!”

“Fourteen!” Agathion guffawed, slipping his fingers inside Joker’s top, wriggling them around to hear the boy moan softly. “Let’s see… how much are you for a night?”

He pulled out a tag from underneath the clothes, and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, a steal?”

“Wh-what?” his tablemates shot to their feet as Agathion’s grin widened.

“Oh, you’re coming with me tonight, sweetheart.” He laughed lowly, getting up quickly to pull Joker close to himself, and the prostitute let out a shocked gasp as the man easily hauled him to the nearest casino staff. “Hey, you.”

The blond in a skull mask looked at him with thinly-veiled disgust, but Joker’s squirming and half-hearted protests demanded the most of his attention. Agathion tossed Joker’s tag at him dismissively, chuckling darkly as he fondled Joker’s crotch, and Joker let out helpless mewls of confused arousal.

“I’m taking this cute little thing up to the rooms for the whole night.” He said, and the blond nodded, nonchalantly catching the tag between two fingers.

“A’ight, sir.” Skull drawled, “This will be charged to your Metaverse account. Payment will be expected from you at the end of your service.”

“Yeah, yeah, gimme the keycard.” The man snapped, and Skull sighed, but led him over to a counter, where a young masked woman stood at.

“‘Sup, dude.” Skull said flatly, “I’mma need a room for Joker here.”

“Room 421,” the woman said, handing Agathion the keycard with a courteous bow. “Thank you for availing The Metaverse Casino’s services.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Agathion waved her off, and she frowned. Skull gave her an apologetic grin, and gestured for Agathion and Joker to follow after him.

“This way, sir.” He said, and led the two to an elevator that went straight up into the hotel. “Have a good night.”

Agathion ignored him in favour of dragging Joker into the elevator with him, pushing him against the wall as the doors slid shut in front of them.

“A-ah, s-sir, d-don’t! I-I’m not—” Joker stammered as Agathion buried his face in the crook of his neck, snickering softly as his hands wandered the prostitute’s body. “Nnh, o-oh, what’s—what did you do?”

Agathion’s hand fondled his crotch again, rubbing him roughly into hardness, and he wrapped his hand around Joker’s growing erection through his leotard. “Mm, I made you hard, sweetheart. Ever touch yourself like this before?”

_They like pretty, pure, virginal children. Lie about your past sexual experiences._

“N-no,” Joker blushed, “I-I haven’t actually been booked before, so I…” He looked off to the side, embarrassed, and Agathion took his chin and turned him to look into his eyes. “S-sir?”

“Call me daddy, sweetheart.” The man grinned. “You’ve never been booked before? Them fuckers don’t know what they’re missing.”

Joker smiled shyly. “O-oh… thank you, sir…” he said, “That’s really sweet of you to say.”

Agathion’s smirk widened. “You’re so cute, little bunny-bunny. I bet your ass will feel so good, too.”

“W-wait, what are we doing?” Joker asked, his eyes going wide, his hand coming up to his mouth to cover it. “What do you mean my a-ass…?” The expletive was spoken much more softly, embarrassment pulling the sound back into Joker’s mouth, but he let out a squeak when Agathion kissed him deeply, pushing his tongue that lingered of champagne and dinner into Joker’s mouth. The prostitute trembled against the man’s unyielding bulk, pressed up deliciously against the wall. “D-daddy…” he moaned softly when they parted for air, and the man groaned approvingly, rutting against Joker’s thigh.

“Mm, you sound so good like that. C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll show you how to give me a good time.”

* * *

_Wrap him firmly around your finger, chéri, and make him swear to be yours._

“A-ahh, no, daddy, you can’t!”

Agathion laughed, ignoring Joker’s pleas as he watched the prostitute struggle weakly in his bindings. Luckily the room came with silk ropes he used to tie Joker’s wrists together behind him, and propping him up on his face and knees, he pulled Joker’s hips up to look at his plump ass, hoisted up in the air. A white tuft of fake fur served as Joker’s bunny tail, trembling thanks to how it was unstably stitched into the fabric, and how much Joker was shaking.

“Aww, but sweetie, your ass just looks good enough to eat. You squirmin’ around like that is making daddy impatient.”

He gave Joker’s ass a smack, earning him a whimper from the prostitute, and his grin only widened. “Holy shit. You were cheap as dirt but _god_ you’re better than some of the whores on the High Limit menu.” He rubbed his leaking erection against the swell of Joker’s ass, and Joker whined pitifully, unconsciously pressing back against his length as if to beg for him to put it in. “ _Fuck_ , baby boy.” He hissed in pleasure. “And a virgin, too? What a goddamn steal.”

“D-daddy, will you still have me e-even after you play with me?” Joker asked, and that made Agathion stop.

“What now, honey?” He asked, and Joker looked up at him over his shoulder, teary-eyed. His dick gave an interested twitch.

“I-I was w-wondering if daddy still wants me…” Joker said weakly. “I-I mean… you’ll play with me tonight, but… what if you get tired of me?” A pretty pink flush crossed his cheeks. “I-I don’t wanna say goodbye to daddy…”

“Aw, honey.” The man sighed, and good _god_ he was getting _way_ more than what his money paid for. He found a good _steal_ in this little slut. “Don’t worry. Daddy will come fuck your sweet little pussy every night he’s here.”

Joker’s eyes filled with innocent, childlike joy. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too, sweetie. Now, lemme open you up and let you feel what a good cock is like.”

He dug his thumbs into the seam of the leotard, and Joker moaned as he felt fingers prod at his fluttering entrance. Agathion dug around, pushing aside the black leotard to take a look at the stockings—the force had torn them slightly right where he needed it—right on top of Joker’s dusky entrance. He grinned widely, and tore the stockings open, tearing a shocked gasp from Joker’s lips.

“D-daddy, y-you’re so strong…” He whimpered, “I-I’m scared…”

“Don’t you worry, baby boy. Daddy’s gonna be gentle.” His grin widened, and he pulled Joker’s entrance open with his thumbs, chuckling darkly. “Oh? Thought you said you don’t touch yourself.”

Lube trickled out of Joker’s ass, and a simple silicone butt plug peeked out innocently between Joker’s asscheeks.

“I-I…” Joker’s blush deepened. “I didn’t want daddy to get mad or jealous, I just…” He buried his face into the pillows in embarrassment. “I didn’t wanna make you wait too long or disappoint you.”

“Aww, sweetheart. You’re making daddy very happy right now.” Agathion pumped the plug in and out of Joker’s ass, savouring his moans. “Mm. _Very_ happy right now.”

“I-I’m glad!” Joker gasped, as the plug pressed against his prostate. “D-daddy, wh-what was that spot? It felt so good!”

“Ohh, that’s your sweet little spot, darling. Daddy will hit it over and over again to _really_ make you scream.”

Agathion pulled the plug out of Joker, relishing the whine he got for it, and without warning, he sheathed himself into the prostitute right up to the hilt. Joker let out a _scream_ , and he laughed darkly as he began to piston in and out of the prostitute, giving him no time to adjust.

“D-daddy! Y-you said—you said…!”

“Oh, honey, I didn’t want to make you wait too long,” Agathion managed between laboured breaths as pleasure washed over him. _God_ , this little bitch was _tight_. “Ohh, baby boy, you feel so good. Daddy feels so good, you’re so good—”

“D-daddy…” Joker was sobbing, but Agathion could see his erection, bouncing cutely from where he had made it peek out from under his leotard. “Daddy, you’re so rough… and strong…”

“Fuck, you feel good—I’m popping your little cherry with my dick!” He panted, and he buried himself into Joker’s ass, coming in thick, hot ribbons that spilled inside him. Joker whined softly as Agathion pulled out, but the man gave him a lecherous grin. He quickly flipped Joker over, thrusting back inside him with a pleased groan as he pulled down the front of Joker’s leotard to pinch his pert, pink nipples.

“Oh, no, darling. We’re not done here yet.”

* * *

“Well, how was it?” Arsene huffed out smoke from his lips disinterestedly, a slim, black cigarette holder held between long, silk-clad fingers. He leaned against the doorframe, watching as the prostitute busied himself with cleaning up, working around the dead-asleep, naked man in the bed.

Akira gave him a pointed look, and then gestured at the man in the bed.

“He was horrible.” He deadpanned, and Arsene grinned in amusement.

“Ah, but he booked a full night.” He gestured at the wall clock, “And the night is still young.”

“He cums after like, three seconds,” Akira replied, and Arsene burst into laughter. “It’s not funny.” He scoffed, “He’s got no stamina, even if he booked the whole night. The asshole didn’t even wait for me to adjust, I only came once the whole time, and—he made me call him _daddy,_ Arsene— _daddy_.”

“To be fair, I have had a fair amount of lovers who have called me that.” The thief replied, waving his cigarette holder, and Akira rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, unlike you, this asshole here doesn’t deserve that title.”

Arsene smirked slowly. “And I do?”

Akira huffed in annoyance, but then smiled slowly.

“Amuse me,” he said, “I did all you told me to and got the result I wanted.” He sauntered over to Arsene, another man’s cum dripping down between his thighs and over ruined, torn stockings, hair a tousled mess and full, plump lips curled up in a confident smirk. “Why don’t _you_ show me what a real daddy is?”

“Well.” Arsene chuckled lowly, and he pulled Akira close to himself, their lips barely brushing. “I have a few words for you, first.”

“What is it?” Akira murmured.

“I don’t sleep with children.” He pushed Akira back, chuckling at the teen’s glare at him. He shook his head fondly and turned around. “Come on, to the bathroom to clean yourself up. You can take another customer tonight, and that simply means more pawns left to fool.”

Akira grumbled, shaking his head as he gathered himself together, and followed after him.

* * *

  _Si tes raisons sont bonnes, come on,_

_(If your reasons are good, come on)_

_Sometimes a man likes a sexy, vicious little demon. The exact opposite of a virginal little lamb that you were some nights ago, the sweet succubus who lives off debauchery and desire, ever-thirsting for sex, the river in the desert._

Joker sauntered around the dice tables, peering at Queen as she counted the bets given to her by the men at the table. They were all in sharp, pressed suits, and looked the epitome of a respectable businessman, but Joker knew every person who came to The Metaverse always had some ulterior motive.

The men around the dice table were of no exception.

He could see the furtive glances one of them gave him, lingering cool looks from a young man with a neat hairstyle. The way he dressed and moved was almost clinical, too clean and sterile to be natural, but the glance he sent Joker’s way whispered a different story.

Like how Eve looked at the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden, want and apprehension mixing in a cocktail darker than blood.

Tonight had Joker in something skimpier than usual, as the night’s theme involved the moulin rouge and burlesque performances. Wrapped around his body tightly was an underbust corset, deep red like big, ripe cherries. It had swirling fleur-de-lis and vine patterns around it in a more muted dark red, and the ribbons that held the corset closed were of black, shiny leather. His nipples were exposed to the cool conditioned air of the casino, perky and pink, and he'd already been teased by a good amount of patrons and prostitutes alike earlier that evening, putting on a show with Panther as side performances while the more expensive prostitutes practically fucked, scantily-clothed on stage. His hands were covered in black gloves that went up to past his elbows, ending with a fluffy hem that tickled his skin with every move he made.

His leather garters and belt shone with a polished sheen, thwacking against his thighs with every step he took. They pulled up a pair of stockings that went up to halfway up his thighs, the edges of them the only delicate part of his outfit—black lace that looked slightly torn, presumably from a lover gone too rough with wandering, excited hands. His five inch stiletto boots went up to past his knees, a few inches underneath the hem of his stockings, covering enough to reveal enough of his toned legs.  His panties were scanty—just barely managing to cover anything indecent, and that earned him lingering looks as he passed by.

Every step he took made a clicking sound against the marble flooring of the casino, and the riding crop attached to his side lightly slapped his thigh as it swayed with his movement.

He'd been getting approving leers from people he walked past, but none of them made a move on him. There were only certain kinds of men who wanted him like that that night, and the young man by the dice games was one of them.

Joker inspected the man’s hand as he sat down on the table’s ledge, his thigh teasingly displayed like a prized sweetmeat on sale. The young man’s eyes raked over him, and Joker gave him a beguiling smile, as in the dim light of the dice table area, a pristine wedding band shone from his finger.

A recently wedded man.

“Oh? Hey, Berith.” Another masked man at the table sneered. “Looks like someone's interested in you.”

“A-absolutely not.” The young man stammered, tearing his eyes away from Joker. “I-I have a wife to come home to.”

_A man tied down in an unhappy, unfulfilling relationship will want to be tamed by a wilder, stronger lover. He will look for a snake to be tempted by, the Lilith to his ever-loyal Eve, who has done nothing but love him. She doesn't deserve this; but a caged chicken is easier to catch than a free bird._

“Mm, even just for one night, handsome?” Joker purred, slinging long, toned legs over the table in a wide, splitting arc, and he blossomed under the heated stares as he spread his legs for all the men at the table. “Just one night couldn't be so wrong, right?”

He lifted the man's chin with his toe.

“I'll even be hush-hush about it. We can do _anything_ you wanna.”

“Oh, fuck,” one of the men hissed. “Berith? If you ain't taking that, I am.”

Berith stared back at Joker with wide, shocked eyes, and Joker’s blood red lips curled up in a smirk.

“How ‘bout it?” Joker purred. “ _Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?_ ”

The man flinched.

_Eve will not bite the apple, so long as Lilith forces it to Adam’s lips._

“How much are you for the night?” Berith asked slowly, and Joker’s grin widened.

“Take a look for yourself.” He said, scooting forward across the table, knocking over some chips the man had stacked for his bets. Queen clicked her tongue in disapproval, but said nothing as Joker slithered into the man’s lap.

“I-I doubt you're affordable.” Berith stammered, and Joker laughed, the slide of smooth silk across cold, hard marble.

“You'd be surprised.” Joker took his hand, and pressed it sensually to his back, right on top of his corset. Tangling his fingers between Berith’s, he pushed the man’s hand down, over his ass, and Joker giggled when Berith gave it a tentative squeeze.

“Mm, there we go. That felt good, didn't it?” He purred, pressing butterfly kisses to the man’s jaw, carefully not getting any lipstick onto his collar. Berith swallowed nervously, and nodded.

“Y-yes.” He replied, and Joker let him take over, squeezing and groping to his heart’s content. “U-um, how do I…?”

“Heh, not a big fan of Metaverse whores?” Joker chuckled into his ear, guiding his hand down to the hem of his stockings. The man jumped at the sensation of a tag slipped inconspicuously under the lace, and their eyes met.

“N-no. You're my first.” Berith replied.

“Oh, you dear darling.” Joker giggled. “I'm gonna have so much fun with you.”

He licked the shell of the man’s ear as Berith pulled out the tag, and he pulled away to let him see the price tag.

“Wh-what the…?”

“I'm cheap.” Joker winked at him. “So, wanna go for that steal?”

“Whoa, Berith, how much is he?” Someone at the table asked, but the young man nodded, pushing Joker off his lap to get up.

“What next?” He asked, but Joker was already calling Skull over, leering at him knowingly.

“I'll take it from here, darling.” He purred, handing his tag over to Skull, and Berith jolted. He hadn't even felt Joker take the card from him. “I won't let you sleep tonight, mister.”

“For how long?” Skull asked, and Joker’s grin was the cat who found the cream.

“All night long.” He replied, taking Berith’s necktie to pull him along. “I've finally found myself a boytoy I can play with.”

* * *

_With a single bite of that forbidden fruit, Adam is left to rot beyond Eden, while Eve grieves in the cold silence of heaven. Lilith, mon cher, is the winner who took it all._

The riding crop slapped against tender skin, and a groan escaped a ball gag that held a panting mouth wide open.

“Faster, darling.” Joker said boredly, holding himself over the man as he desperately thrust up into Joker’s hole, the wet sounds of lube squelching deep inside him obscene as the sounds of Berith’s helpless moans into his ball gag. Joker clicked his tongue, and whipped the man again, earning him an approving moan. “Harder. Fuck me better than you do your little wife.”

Berith’s wedding ring—still new and clean and polished, like he had only been married recently—lay on the bedside table, glimmering in the dull, sensual light of the hotel room. It almost seemed like an afterthought, a little sliver of an idea one threw to the back of the mind only to consequently—conveniently—forget, and Joker smirked wider when he felt Berith’s cock inside him grow impossibly harder.

“Mm, I’m so much better, aren’t I?” He cooed, squeezing around Berith’s cock to relish the sound of a garbled moan. “My ass is so much tighter, and I fuck you much more naughtier…”

Joker was still clothed in everything he had been wearing, save for his panties, which were now on the floor along with all of Berith’s clothes. The man himself was completely naked, now hogtied and spread open with leather bindings that dug into his skin with a delicious sort of pain that kept him rock hard. A strap of the leather wound around the base of his cock, keeping him from being able to cum, and with the desperate fucks he had been making, the stuttering of his hips against Joker, he was practically begging for release.

It also helped that this whole time, Joker had gone completely untouched. Berith’s hands had yet to touch him beyond what Joker let him at the dice game tables, and his cock still hung limp between them, a stark contrast to Berith’s burning erection.

Joker bounced on the man’s lap, tutting. “You’re taking so long, you useless little horse.” He frowned, hands coming up to spread the man’s legs wider, and Berith threw his head back in a garbled moan. “If you can’t get me hard soon, I’m gonna get you off with just my shoes.”

Berith shook his head desperately, and Joker grinned.

“Aw, you wanna come inside?” He cooed, and Berith nodded. His smile turned saccharine, and he whipped Berith again, making the man moan. “Then _work_ for it. Fuck me real good. I’ll mark you up as much as I wanna until you can.”

The man groaned eagerly and began fucking up into Joker with earnest. Joker made a show of yawning, grinning slightly, but he reached down with his free hand to start stroking himself to hardness. The sight of it had Berith start whimpering desperately, and Joker giggled.

“You wanna say something?” He asked, and the man underneath him nodded. He pulled the gag off him, and immediately Berith started pleading.

“Please—Joker—wanna cum, lemme cum,” he panted, “You feel so good—do you feel my cock inside you? Are you starting to feel good?”

“Ahh, it’s better when you’re begging.” Joker’s cheeks began to turn red as his cock started hardening in his hand. “Maybe I shouldn’t have gagged you up at the start.”

“N-no, the gag was good, so good,” the man’s sentences broke apart, brittle with pleasure and the roar of his blood in his veins. “Wanna cum, please lemme cum.”

“Mm, what’s in it for me?” Joker hummed. “I’m not even hard yet…”

“I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll do it! I’ll make you cum so many times, however you want!”

Joker’s smile widened. “Will you keep coming back to me, pet?” He purred. “You know no one else will put you in your lane the way I do. You naughty, untamed little horsey?”

“A-always! I’ll always come back to you! I’ll fuck you every night I can!” Berith winced as he thrust into Joker particularly roughly, and much to his delight, Joker finally let out a gasp, throwing his head back with a full-bodied tremble that made desire surge in Berith’s blood.

“A-ahh, so you _can_ feel good, little pig,” Joker snarled, whipping the man again, and Berith groaned in approval. “I-I think I _can_ put up with your disgusting little self.”

“Y-yes! Punish me every night, Joker! I’ll buy you for all night, I’ll buy you forever—”

“Ahh, you good boy, you’re such a good boy,” Joker praised him. “You can cum now, piggy, do it!” He gasped, reaching down to undo the leather wrapped tight around Berith’s cock, and almost immediately the man came, spilling hot cum inside Joker’s ass.

Berith fell back, jelly-boned, and Joker smirked down at him.

“Don’t relax just yet, piggy,” He drawled, lifting the man’s chin with his riding crop. “I haven’t cum yet.”

* * *

Arsene stumbled into the room, wheezing softly behind his hand, trying not to make too much noise as Akira glowered at him, cheeks ruddy from strain and embarrassment.

“ _Sacrebleu._ ” Arsene snickered. “Did you just go through the whole…” he made a wave with his hand, “ _Le Vieux MacDonald a une Ferme?_ ”

“I’m not that good at French yet, so I’m guessing you mean some kinda farm.” Akira drawled, and the thief tried his best to stop laughing.

“The—the—” Arsene burst into wheezing laughter again, and Akira rolled his eyes.

“Asshole.” He frowned. “I did what I had to, okay? And shut up—Berith’s a light sleeper. He may be in the next area of the room but he might hear you.”

The thief continued to snicker as Akira clumsily got out of his outfit, earning him a light smack to the arm with the riding crop.

“A valiant effort, my dear, but I’m not into that.” He paused, “Not right now, anyway.”

“God, why am I even friends with you?” Akira rolled his eyes, but he smiled slightly. “Anyway, I did like you said and got the results I wanted. Isn’t that good enough?”

“Yes,” Arsene pressed a kiss to Akira’s temple. “However, your inexperience shone through tonight with your inconsistency as a Dom. Luckily your Sub was inexperienced as well, but you must improve, nevertheless. You may find yourself with an experienced Sub, and any mistakes will not help you in the long run.”

“Right.” Akira nodded, determination in his eyes.

“Stick to a consistent theme, and try to vary the places you hit your Sub. I applaud your aftercare efforts, however.”

“That why you showed up late?”

“Yes.” Arsene smiled. “I knew that if you were the Dom there would be no problems. I take pride in my skill and in what I taught you.”

“Heh, thanks.” Akira blushed, shrugging. “I’ll try harder next time, then.”

“Good.” Arsene nodded, “Now, to a light snack, and perhaps a new customer. You’ve quite the reputation to build to be a bona fide Crown Jewel.”

* * *

  _Prends ton temps et le mien, Car j'y tiens._

_(Take your time and mine, because I cherish it)_

_At the crux of it all, men are simple creatures. They value consistency, a constant in the ever-changing river that is the present. They unwind like animals—following their basest desires like moths to flames._

“Good evening, sir.”

Joker set down ashtrays and several ceramic cups with a graceful bow of his head, before straightening up and heading away.

“Hold on.”

A hand wrapped around his wrist, and Joker looked up to see a masked man in full military regalia. No doubt a high-ranking officer, judging from the medals on his breast, and the width of his shoulders told Joker this man was more powerful than his voice sounded.

“Valued guest.” He bowed his head again, but the man lifted his chin gently to get a good look at him.

“You're beautiful.” He said.

Joker, tonight, was in a simple white kimono, camellias blooming over cheap satin like fresh blood on snow. His obi was similarly red, tied in front like all the other prostitutes in The Metaverse, and he had a single peony kanzashi pulled back his curling hair behind his left ear. There was but the barest hint of makeup on his face, save for the deep, deep red that painted his lips.

Said lips curled up into a shy smile, and Joker tucked his hair back behind his ear.

“Thank you.” He said quietly. Modestly, with the humility of a springtime bride.

The man smiled at him, lacing his hand in his, and at the table, his fellows, all dressed similarly to him laughed heartily.

“General Yoshitsune!” A man more decorated than he was guffawed, “We’ve only barely begun, you're already picking up whores?”

“This one’s a cheap one, too.” A woman with a severe bun behind her head commented, “His kimono has only two layers—and I do believe that is just satin, not silk. Speak up, boy, am I correct?” She scoffed.

“Indeed you are, milady.” Joker replied politely, gently pulling from Yoshitsune’s hand to bow at her. “I am inexpensive, as you said.”

“Hah,” the woman smirked at her companions, but Yoshitsune shook his head.

“Price is irrelevant.” Yoshistune said, smiling back down at Joker. He took his hand and kissed his knuckles tenderly, squeezing it gently as he pulled Joker to sit down next to him. “Even a most beautiful pearl can be sold for cheaper than cotton.”

The woman scoffed, turning up her nose at Joker, who looked at her apologetically.

“A cheap whore is what it is.” She shook her head.

“Come now, friends,” the eldest, most decorated soldier at the table chuckled, “Let’s just play mahjong and share some good laughs.” He gave Joker a lascivious wink. “And let’s have our own personal beauty here pour us all a drink.”

“It would be an honour.” Joker replied, and got to work.

_There is just… something about the cool constance of a lover seemingly unaffected by the flames of passion. Humble, soft and quiet, yet stable and unyielding to desire. When a man wishes to let go, he needs an anchor—the cornerstone that would keep him from crumbling completely._

“Joker, you’re truly so, so beautiful.” Yoshitsune buried his face in the crook of Joker’s neck, pushing down and aside his kimono as he pressed him to the wall of the hotel room, panting heavily. “A gorgeous jewel, a delicate flower—”

“Y-Yoshitsune-sama, please, I—”

“Speak your passion to me. I will do whatever you wish.”

Joker pulled away from him, pushing the man back, and Yoshitsune’s expression fell—but only when he saw a cool sort of desperation in Joker’s eyes. The hint of fear coloured his pale cheeks a lovely pink, and his lips were still so, so red, despite the lipstick smearing from the corners of Joker’s lips.

“Why?” Joker asked softly, pained and so _frightened,_ “Why do you lose yourself so, Yoshitsune-sama?”

“I…” The man squeezed Joker’s arms, and watched the way his beautiful, smooth collarbone peeked through his skin with every laboured breath. “I wish to lose myself in you. Please—let me be who I wish to be. I want to make love to you, I want to _fuck_ you—” He shook his head, “I can’t ever lose my facade to the world. But here— _here_ , I could—with _you_ —”

Joker silenced him with a hand to his cheek, and Yoshitsune jolted, looking at Joker with wide eyes.

“Then I will shelter you,” he said softly, “But in return…”

“Yes?” Yoshitsune was breathless, taking Joker’s face in his hands and looking into his eyes desperately.

“Please, keep coming back to me.” Joker murmured, lips quivering with the need to kiss his master. “I… I wish to be needed, to have someone lose themselves in me— _mmph!_ ”

Yoshitsune kissed him, hard, and Joker melted into his arms, letting him deepen the kiss as he pushed Joker back against the wall. They parted for air, panting heavily, and Joker peered at him through long, fluttering eyelashes.

“Yoshitsune-sama…?”

“You are mine, and I am yours, Joker.” The man murmured back to him, undoing the rest of Joker’s kimono and letting it fall to the floor. “I will always keep coming back to you.”

* * *

“A rather passionate evening you had last night.” Arsene smiled into the rim of his wineglass, and Akira gave him a lopsided smile, shrugging as he ducked his head with a shyness from the night before that he couldn’t shake. “Like watching a period romantic film—very lovely, like a perfect blend of coffee.”

“Hm.” Akira simply replied, setting the kimono down on the bar counter in front of a disgruntled-looking woman. “Thank you very much for the kimono, Lala-san.”

“No, no, it’s all yours.” She replied, shaking her head as she offered him a smile. “Now, what’s this I’m hearing about a period movie—and passionate nights?” She squinted at Arsene. “Now, honey—I said I’d help you train Akira-chan here, but you’d better not be doing anything suspicious.”

Arsene scoffed. “Like what.” He said dismissively.

Lala scowled. “I’ll be frank, Arsene-chan, have you been pimping him out?” She demanded, and Arsene almost spat out his drink, choking on the red wine with a loudness that was almost comical. “I’ve seen the bruises, you can’t hide this from me!”

“Preposterous!” Arsene protested, and Akira looked at him witheringly.

 _Technically_ , Lala was right—Arsene _was_ in a way pimping him out, but the more official relationship they had was teacher and student.

Arsene was teaching him how to seduce his way to the top of The Metaverse, and in return, Akira was going to avenge every single soul lost to the depths of The Metaverse.

“You’d better not be getting Akira-chan here roped into any funny business!” Lala snapped, jabbing a finger into Arsene’s face, not even bothering to help him, and Akira decided to speak up.

“If it matters—probably not—but _I_ was the one who struck a shady deal with him.”

Lala gaped at him, and Arsene deflated onto the bar counter.

“A minute, mademoiselle Escargot,” he sighed. “I’m going to need another glass of wine for this.”

* * *

  _Prends, la vitesse d'un vrai ouragan_

_(Take the speed of a real hurricane)_

_Seize your proud moments, embrace the shame they pile upon you. It is where you find your strength, the power to bend the will of others to your own. You are your own master, your body is your own castle to rule over._

“Heh, dirty little sluts. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

The brunet’s hand went up his schoolgirl uniform’s shirt, and Joker leaned back against the other prostitute’s chest.

“L-Loki-senpai, we've been naughty.” Joker stammered, turning his head to kiss the corner of Loki’s lips, whimpering as his fingers began playing with his nipples. “What're we gonna do?”

“We'll have to beg for Mister’s forgiveness.” The brunet replied, his own mask the exact opposite of Joker’s, white on black around his eyes. “I told you to behave, you dirty little thing, but you just couldn't help yourself.”

“Aw, how could I, when fucking feels _so good?_ ” Joker whined, turning around to raise his ass at the man watching them writhe together, wiggling it teasingly. “Right, mister? I love having a big thick cock in my ass.”

Tonight, Joker was in a schoolgirl’s uniform, with the skirt far too short for it to be acceptable as an honest school uniform. His top was a white turtleneck, a tiny ribbon at his throat, and his pleated skirt, checkered with red, black and white, was held up by a pair of suspenders.

He was familiar with this uniform—Shujin Academy, owned and directed by one of Shido’s cronies. If he remembered correctly, Panther, Skull, Queen and Lune all came from that school. If he didn't know any better, he would have called it off a coincidence.

But there were no coincidences in anything involving Masayoshi Shido. No doubt Shujin was where his people picked out potential victims for their prostitutes in The Metaverse.

Loki, the other prostitute with him, had a higher base value—one of the most expensive prostitutes in The Metaverse, to be precise—and was dressed in a different uniform. His was more complicated, with a blue blouse and a ribbon, and the pleated skirt was a solid dark blue, yet the same length as Joker’s tiny skirt. He also had a blue blazer on, and the crest on his coat pocket read “Kosei High”.

“Heh, you fucking slut.” The man grinned, but he was stroking himself openly as he leered at Loki. “You a slut like your little kouhai here?”

“As if.” Loki rolled his eyes, twirling a lock of his hair between his fingers as his other hand went down to Joker’s skirt to lift it up, displaying Joker’s panties. The man’s grin widened to see a wet patch right where his entrance was, soaked with dripping lube, and the end of a butt plug bulging through the white cotton panties. “I'm not like this little whore who can't go a whole school day without something in his ass.”

“But senpai,” Joker grinned, kissing Loki deeply, and the brunet let out a tiny moan when his hand went down to grope him through his own skirt. They parted, a trail of saliva connecting their tongues, and Loki’s cheeks were sweetly pink. “You're hard too… you like the thought of me getting fucked by Mister?”

“Hmm, that doesn't sound like a bad idea.” Loki grinned, “But I dunno… I wanna get fucked too.” He smirked at the man watching them make out, and he groped Joker sensually, making the younger moan. “How about we see which one of us makes him cum the fastest?” He gave the man a slow, beguiling wink. “How about it, Mister?”

“That's Mara to you both, you damn sluts.” The man smirked, “Lemme see your tags and we'll see if we have a deal.”

Loki pulled his skirt up, pulling his tag out from his panties slowly, watching the way Mara’s eyes followed his movement. “Joker-chan, hold your skirt up to let Mr. Mara get your tag.”

“Okay!” Joker nodded, lifting his skirt completely, and Mara reached forward, grinning widely as he quickly groped Joker’s ass tightly. “Oh!” He squealed, “Mara-san! That's lewd!”

“You're the lewd one here, whore.” The man grinned, fishing around Joker’s panties for the tag. He found it quickly, but he didn't pull it out without thrusting Joker’s butt plug in and out of the prostitute.

“A-ah! Nooo, you're gonna make me cum!” Joker whined. “Senpai, he's making me feel so good!”

Loki stepped on the man’s cock, tutting.

“Pay up first, _sir._ ” He practically growled.

Mara shrunk back, muttering about stingy companies and the lack of freebies, but he settled down to inspect their tags. His eyes widened.

“The hell, is this like a buy one-take one offer?” He said incredulously. “And the _slut_ is the cheap one?”

Loki smirked slowly. “Don't judge a book by its cover.”

“Well, a threesome with two cute sluts for this price is a bargain.” Mara smirked. “Where's that Skull kid? I've got two little schoolgirls to fuck.”

* * *

_Wear your allure like a medal. It is your crowning glory, and those who shame you for it are nothing more than yapping hypocrites. Expecting a prudent prostitute is like demanding the moon to stay in place, and those who ask for faceless bodies to fuck are no more prudent than you are._

“Oh, Joker-chan, you're so good, _fuck,_ your little dirty whore hole’s swallowing me in so much! God, I'd come back for you and your bitch senpai!”

“Mm, you'd better.” Loki grinned, pinning the man down again to set his face between his thighs, giggling lightly when Mara started slobbering over his skin. “You haven't made either of us cum yet, Mr. Mara. Look how Joker’s practically begging for it.”

“Disgusting,” Mara laughed, slapping Joker’s side as the boy bounced on his lap, moaning with his head thrown back, his cock erect and held tight with a cock ring. “Look at him bounce on my dick, he's practically just a sex toy!”

“And what about me?” Loki asked him sweetly. “Have I been a good girl for you?”

“Ya’ fuckin’ bet. At least you seem closer to a virgin compared to this filthy slut.” Mara sat up, earning him a whine from Joker as he wrapped a hand around the back of Loki’s head. “C’mere. I like your tongue in my mouth.”

“Mm, okay.” Loki hummed pleasantly, kissing him deeply as the man reached for his cock, stroking him roughly as he swallowed Loki’s breathless moans.

“Ahh, wanna kiss—wanna touch,” Joker whined. “F-feel so good… senpai… mister Mara…”

Mara laughed lasciviously, pulling away from a dazed-looking Loki to stroke Joker’s cock with his freed hand.

“Ah!” Joker squealed, and Mara jerked his head at Loki.

“Go give the begging bitch what he wants, princess.” He said, and Loki nodded as Mara let his cock go, crawling over to Joker's side to kiss him deeply. Their mouths moved noisily together, tongues slithering across each other in a slow, sensual dance, one Joker tried desperately to hasten, but a tug on his hair from Loki made him whimper and stand down.

Mara watched them make out, grinning wider, and he reached down to jerk Loki off again, making him whine into his kiss with Joker.

“I-I'm cumming,” Mara panted, “You two be good little bitches and cum as I do.”

“Yes, sir.” The two chorused, and that did him in, burying himself deep into Joker’s ass and filling him up again for the second time that night, and with deft fingers, Loki undid Joker’s cock ring to let him cum. The brunet also hit his orgasm, and their white ribbons mixed together on top of Mara’s chest, spreading and seeping into the folds his skin made.

Almost immediately Mara fell back, going right to sleep, and the two prostitutes looked at each other.

“Come on,” Loki said, picking Joker up with some difficulty, “Let’s get ourselves cleaned up.”

Customer unconscious and satisfied, Joker finally dropped the innocent act, scowling deeply as he shakily got off the man’s limp cock.

“And this guy?” He asked, jabbing his thumb at Mara, and Loki wrinkled his nose.

“Let the gunk dry off on him. Bastard deserves it for being so damn hypocritical.”

Joker smiled fondly at that, and let Loki help him stumble into the bathroom.

* * *

Pressed together in the shower stall, water flowing down on top of their heads, Akechi kissed Akira slowly, pressing the younger man against the cool tile walls with a tenderness that could be mistaken for lovers. Akira kissed him back with the same slow casualness, absently lathering shampoo into Akechi’s damp hair.

“Akira,” he said softly as they parted for air, and Akira hummed as he washed the soap out of the brunet’s hair, running his fingers through it gently. “What are you doing?”

“I'm helping you take a bath, duh.” Akira grinned, and Akechi frowned at him, pulling away from him completely.

“I know what you're doing.” He said sternly. “Don't think I haven't noticed how much more customers you're taking. You have _regulars_ now. And just tonight, you were outperforming me.” He caged Akira in his arms between his body and the wall. “ _Why?_ Didn't I tell you to stay out of the limelight? What if Shido notices you?”

Akira stayed quiet, the only sound ringing in the bathroom the shower water raining down on them.

Akechi sighed.

“Listen, I'm _trying_ to protect you, Akira. Don't do this. It's not worth it.” He said, “I don't know how you're suddenly so much more skilled than the expensive ones here, but you have to stop this. If Shido realises how good you are, he might—” Akechi stopped himself, and shook his head. “Listen, being at the top isn't always the best.”

“Akechi.” Akira said, and the brunet looked back at him. He gave him a smile, and moved forward to kiss him again, gently, sweetly, and Akechi only managed to start kissing him back when Akira pulled away.

“Akira?”

“You're not the only one who wants revenge.” Akira said darkly, and Akechi’s eyes widened. “I have my way of getting it, and you have yours.”

The brunet deflated. “I can only wonder why you insist on doing this.”

“I’m wondering why you won’t let me have this and simply team up with me.”

“That’s…” Akechi hesitated, and he shook his head, kissing Akira deeply instead. The younger teen kissed him back, moaning softly as he felt Akechi’s erection press against his thigh. They parted for breath, the brunet pressing their foreheads together, and they looked into each other’s eyes.

“That’s?”

“I have my reasons,” he said, reaching down to take hold of their cocks in one hand, and Akira groaned softly. “You have yours. It’s best we don’t talk about it.”

“So we’ll just have sex, instead?” Akira grinned, and Akechi rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.”

* * *

  _L'altitude de quelqu'un qui connait son coeur_

_(The altitude of someone who knows their own heart)_

“Hey, so next week Monday is something really special to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. Will you come that night? I really, really want you to see me for something… _special_.”

“Ooh, that sounds naughty.”

“Heh, if you want it to be. So, will you come? I’m gonna give some extra-special service, _just for you._ ”

“Only because you say so, Joker.”

“I’m so glad.”

* * *

_When you have secured enough fools, summon them all to The Metaverse on one single evening, and let the magic do its work._

“Joker, oh my gosh!”

Joker looked up from the common vanity many of the lower-priced prostitutes shared to see Panther hurrying to his side, panting softly. She was in a lovely, body-hugging gown that night, and to the untrained eye, she really did look older than her actual teen age, thanks to her curves and makeup.

“Panther? What’s up?” He asked, getting up to meet her halfway, and she gripped his shoulders, panicked.

“There’s a brawl going on outside.” She hissed, and his eyes widened, “And talk of the town is that it’s over _you!_ ”

“What, really?” His eyes widened. “But that can’t be right—I’m just a cheap whore… no need to pick fights over someone like me.”

“I-I dunno, I,” Panther looked panicked, but she shook her head. “Listen Joker, you’re like, worth everything in the whole wide world.” She pouted, and she pulled him along. “C’mon, you gotta see this.”

* * *

“Do I hear a 500 thousand? 500! 500!”

Satanael smirked into the rim of his wineglass, crossing a leg over the other as he leaned back in his plush armchair. He could see some appreciative stares lingering on him as he waved his number at the young man standing on top of the stage in the middle of the casino, which had now been appropriated to its current use, an auctioning platform.

“500 thousand for Satanael-sama!” The boy cheered, his silver crescent-moon mask glittering in the spotlight on him. “550? 600! 600 for Mr. Berith!”

Satanael peered at the man who placed the bet, his smirk widening at the sight of the swollen cheek the man sported—he saw the whole tirade go down, and he almost laughed at the memory of it.

Several of Joker’s regulars had gathered all together that fateful Monday night, squabbling over their favourite prostitute, and eventually they had ended in a fistfight that somehow managed to involve a greater amount of guests than he and Joker had anticipated. Casino staff had hurried to suppress the violence before they had managed to cause any damage, but the demand for Joker’s problem to be settled pushed for the auction to happen.

Higher-up Metaverse managers saw the opportunity almost _immediately,_ planting dummy bidders in the crowd to amp up the price Joker’s night sold for.

The hullabaloo gathered the interest of the rest of the casino, and soon, the gaming had stopped to favour Joker’s auction.

“One million! How amazing, ladies and gents! One million! Do I hear 1.1 mil?”

Satanael paused, his eyes widening, and a fond smile crossed his face.

“A million yen for a night to lay with a lover.” He chuckled, shaking his head, and he got up smoothly, waving a staff member over to take his wineglass.

“Satanael-sama?”

“I will be logging out for tonight.” Satanael said, handing her his membership card. “Here is my card—I will be waiting in the entrance lobby.”

“A-alright, sir.” The young woman nodded, and Satanael strode onwards, his golden high heels clicking satisfyingly against the marble flooring of the casino. He made his way to the gilded double-doors, and when they opened, he came face-to-face with a wide-eyed Joker, breathless and beautiful, and his breath caught in his throat.

Tonight Joker was in a beautiful black gown that hugged his body, a halter neckline terminating in a lace collar around his slim, clear throat. The dress trailed over the floor, but had a slit that went up to his waist, and Satanael could see the sliver of skin the slit teasingly showed, pale cream interrupted by a black band—a garter, on Joker’s thigh. His hands, covered by black gloves that went up to his elbows, were holding onto Panther’s, and affection blossomed in Satanael’s chest.

He could just barely imagine the Lupin family heirloom around his neck, the beautiful Queen’s Necklace glittering in the bright lights of the casino, and the longing for Paris sprang anew.

“S-Satanael, where are you going?” Joker asked, and the man chuckled, bowing at him.

“I realised I missed home, _mon cher._ Paris calls to me.”

“But—”

“It was lovely to know you, beautiful young Joker.” He said, offering his hand for Joker to take. “It fills me with absolute joy to see how much you have grown, not only in confidence, but in worth.”

Joker took his hand, gaping at him, and Satanael kissed his knuckles.

“It was a pleasure to have met you, beloved Crown Jewel of The Metaverse.”

Joker’s eyes filled with tears, and he bit his red, red lips.

“Th-thank you.” He said brokenly, “For everything.”

“No, Joker.” Satanael smiled back at him, patting his hand. “Thank _you._ ”

Thank you, his words said, but his voice said, _I’m proud of you_ , and Satanael left, not wanting to see Joker shed tears for him as he left.

* * *

  _Car en somme, c'était fun._

_('Cause overall, it was fun.)_

_There is one last thing I wish for you to learn, mon petit diamant._

“Arsene.”

“Akira.” The man smiled back at him, leg crossed over the other as he watched the prostitute stride over to him, frowning deeply. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite little diamond.”

Akira stopped right in front of him, arms crossed and petulantly pouting, and Arsene cocked his head at him, still smiling.

“The Crown Jewel of The Metaverse.” He said proudly, “How you’ve grown. There’s nothing else I can teach you, mon cher. You’ve become an unstoppable force in the hell you find yourself trapped in. I cannot be prouder.”

“Arsene.” Akira sighed deeply, “You said you still had one last thing you wanted me to learn.”

“Oh?” The man grinned.

_But I cannot teach it to you right now. You will need to be the Crown Jewel of this special little world, first. You need to be at the peak of it all, when your life is now defined by the walls of the gilded cage you walked into yourself._

“What was it? Was it about why you would never sleep with me before?”

Akira climbed onto Arsene’s lap, determination in his eyes.

“I know what you’d been up to while I’d been fucking idiots—”

“Working.” Arsene delicately corrected him, hands coming to a rest on Akira’s waist, hiking up the silk robe he wore to realise he was wearing nothing underneath.

“Working.” Akira rolled his eyes. “You were fucking around with everyone else.” His tone was accusatory, and Arsene chuckled fondly. “You fucked _Akechi._ ”

“Thought I deserved a little splurge, and you _were_ busy.” Arsene replied easily, but he picked Akira up, laughing at the young man’s shout of surprise when he dumped him onto the bed, climbing on top of him to straddle his waist.

“You said you didn’t sleep with children.” Akira glared up at him defiantly, and the man grinned.

“You _are_ 18 now.” he said, “And you are no longer a child—in both age, and in soul.”

Akira’s eyes widened, and Arsene leant down to kiss him.

It wasn’t like the other kisses he had before—his customers were often inexperienced, or too giddy, seeking their pleasure before anything else, forceful to the point it hurt sometimes. Akechi’s kisses were too mild, soft and caring like a healing caress, tentative and slow and always too frightened of hurting him.

Arsene did it completely differently.

Slow, yet toe-curling and deep, heated and yet not forceful, just the right pressure to be on the side of dominant, but not domineering.

Arsene—Arsene kissed like a lover.

Akira melted into his kiss, arms coming up around the back of the Frenchman’s neck to deepen the kiss, allowing himself to be lifted to sit upright. He tangled his hands in Arsene’s hair, deep black like his own, and his eyes slid shut, pleasure building in his gut slowly, churning and swelling.

The older man pulled away, chuckling deeply, and Akira shivered.

“You’re quite right, Akira. Tonight, I will teach you the last thing I can.” He said. “Help me strip.”

Oh, so they really _were_ doing it now.

Akira’s fingers were suddenly numb, inept and slightly useless as all he could manage was to help Arsene tug his clothes off, suddenly realising how _complicated_ the man always wore his clothes. First was his coat, then a vest that tied like a corset, the cravat, the polo—

Akira lost track of the time they wasted stripping the man, mind clouded with panic and confusion and anticipation. He wasn’t in love with Arsene, no—but he had always thought of seducing the man.

He always seemed so infallible, training Akira with such a straight face and cool voice, that it made Akira wonder what he was like, lost in the throes of pleasure.

It made him wonder what kind of beast Arsene hid—would it be like the monsters the men he slept with had—or would it be something else entirely?

A prince? A king?

When the both of them were completely naked, Arsene set Akira down on the bed again, lacing their fingers together beside Akira’s head, and the sensuality of his touch made Akira shiver again. He looked up at the man’s smirk down at him, and realisation clicked in his head—

A gentleman thief. Of course. There was just… _something_ about being a gentleman thief that set him aside from everyone else.

People always chased after gentleman thieves. Gentleman thieves only ever chased after the most precious things. Like any fashionable coy young woman, Arsene liked to know he was being chased—and somehow, Akira didn’t mind doing the chasing.

If only to make such an unattainable quarry chase _him_ back in return.

In the game of seduction that Akira had learned the rules—or lack thereof—to heart, it seemed fitting that the most unattainable man was his final, ultimate challenge.

“Have you ever made love before, Akira?” Arsene murmured, resting his weight slowly, comfortably down on top of the younger man, and Akira shook his head. “Oh?” The man chuckled, “It’s always been so vulgar, has it? Fucking, bending over like a toy to any man willing to wave money in the millions—or jewelry, at you?”

“Y-yes,” Akira felt like he was a virgin all over again, with the way Arsene’s voice ran over his skin, leaving goosebumps, and confusion clouded his mind.

How in the _hell_ was Arsene doing all this?

“Mm, how unfortunate.” The man hummed, “Such a lovely little gem like you, being so terribly mistreated. You deserve a reward for all your hard work.”

“Wh-what are you gonna do?”

“The best I can.”

Arsene kissed him again, deep and sensual, and it hit Akira like a tidal wave, crashing his consciousness into dazed pleasure. Before he could even recover enough to kiss back, Arsene pulled away, letting go of his hands to run them down his body, the heat of his palms permeating through his skin deeply. Akira sighed, melting under Arsene’s touch as his fingers ghosted over his pert nipples, before tenderly massaging fading bite marks that made rings around them.

The prostitute moaned, involuntarily arching into Arsene’s touch, silently begging the man to pay attention to his nipples, and with a chuckle, the thief complied, rubbing his thumbs against them to make them stiff, pebbling sweetly.

“A- _ahh_ ,” Akira twitched helplessly when the man leaned down to suck on them one by one, coming off when they were tender, smirking down at his handiwork.

“You’ve been pleasuring people with your mouth, but you’ve never actually been pleasured with a mouth before, have you?” He chuckled, moving further down Akira’s body, and the younger man shook his head wildly.

“I—I… people have… m-my nipples.” He stammered, but Arsene shook his head.

“That is not what I meant.” He simply replied, before swallowing Akira’s erection down whole. Akira’s eyes widened, and he threw his head back in a breathless gasp as Arsene’s hands pinned his hips down, sucking _hard_ along his cock.

“O-oh, my _god_ , th-that’s— _no_ , I’m gon—I’m gonna cum, A- _Arsene_ —”

His hand balled into a panicked fist in Arsene’s hair, but the man didn’t pull off, sucking him off diligently until Akira came into his mouth with a desperate whine, a full-bodied shiver shaking him to the core when he felt Arsene _swallow_.

He’d always been doing that to his customers, but he had no idea it felt like _that._

As he slumped down bonelessly against the mattress, Arsene pulled off him with an obscene _pop_. Akira looked up at him dazedly to see him grin impishly down at him.

“Oh, your blissed-out face is amazing.” he cooed, stroking Akira’s hair. “A shame your foolish clients don’t know mutual pleasure is far, far better than the pleasure of a single person.”

“Th-that was… really something.”

“Thank you, I aim to please.” Arsene grinned, “Now, mon cher, I’ll be turning you around for the next thing.”

“Wh-what?” Akira couldn’t protest much as Arsene carefully positioned him onto his hands and knees. The prostitute gasped in surprise as Arsene carefully pried his legs open, squirming in panic. “H-hold on, what are you—”

“I aim to please.” Arsene replied simply again, and Akira jolted when he felt his tongue lick a stripe over his twitching hole. Akira’s spine went ramrod straight in shock as he felt Arsene’s thumbs spread him open, his tongue tracing idle, teasing rings around the rim.

“Oh, my _god!_ ” Akira gasped, shaking as Arsene slowly began to fuck him with his tongue, his spent cock quickly coming back to life as shock and pleasure mixed together in a delicious, intoxicating cocktail. “Th-that’s—your tongue, it’s—”

“Yes.” Arsene chuckled, pressing a kiss to Akira’s fluttering entrance. “I am flattered to see you’ve prepared yourself for me while take that shower earlier, but I like to pleasure and prepare my partners myself, as well.” He gave Akira’s ass a loving pat, and turned Akira over again, grinning down at him as he spread Akira’s legs, pressing his own erection against his entrance. “However, a man with needs is a man with needs.” He cupped Akira’s cheek in his hand tenderly. “May I come in, Akira?”

“Y-yeah,” Akira nodded, “N-nothing I h-haven’t done bef— _oh!_ ”

Arsene slid into him easily, the wet sound of his cock sliding into Akira sounding alongside Akira’s gasp. The man winced at the pressure around his cock, and for the first time, Akira finally saw his facade slip.

The change in his cool, handsome expression—it made him more attractive, for some reason.

“Y-you’re a little big.” Akira managed between a dazed grin. “N-not bad.”

“A-ah, apologies…” Arsene’s words cracked and crumbled slightly as he slid all the way inside Akira, coming to a slow stop buried inside Akira to the hilt. “You are… _wonderfully_ tight. It is no surprise your men keep coming back to you.”

“H-heh, thanks.” Akira huffed, and he let out a weak little moan when Arsene experimentally rutted their hips together.

“I-I shall wait for you to adjust,” Arsene said, “I am not some inconsiderate lover—I do not wish to scare you, nor hurt you in any way.”

Akira laughed deliriously. Arsene, hurt him? Impossible.

He owed a lot to this man. He wouldn’t have made it to this penthouse suite without Arsene.

Without Arsene, he would have broken and tossed away way too quickly, and it would be Morgana in his shoes quickly after that.

Arsene was the last person Akira would be scared of.

“ _J'ai pas peur,_ ” he purred, and Arsene laughed softly.

“Ah, after my own heart, are you?” He said fondly. “Very well.”

He began to slide in and out of Akira, slowly at first. Sensual and hot, the pace began to pick up, and Akira found himself gasping softly as Arsene began to thrust harder into him, helplessly dissolving into a loud, shocked gasp when he pressed hard against his prostate.

“Th-there!” Akira gasped, and Arsene nodded, grunting softly as he began to piston harder into Akira, aiming for that sweet little spot that had Akira seeing starbursts behind his eyelids.

Pleasure built between the two of them, the wet sound of their bodies slapping together punctuating Akira’s broken moans of Arsene’s name, the syllables fragmenting into shattered sounds. The both of them teetered on the edge, and Arsene reached down to stroke Akira to completion.

“I-I’m going to—”

“Together, Akira.”

Akira whined, spilling his load, and he felt Arsene bury himself inside Akira deeply, before also climaxing, melting down comfortably on top of Akira’s panting, shaking body.

“Th-that was…” Akira stammered, “Wow.”

“That is how you make love.” Arsene grinned at him tiredly, pulling out of him slowly. The both of them winced as they came apart, and Arsene quietly excused himself to head into the en suite bathroom to pick up towels to clean the both of them up.

They helped each other clean up, and when they were done, Akira tossed the towels to the ground, pulling Arsene down to snuggle with him in bed. The man laughed fondly, but agreed, stroking Akira’s hair tenderly as they settled down under the covers.

“So, that was your last lesson?” Akira asked, and Arsene shook his head. “Huh?”

“My last lesson, Akira, is this.” He pressed a tender kiss to the corner of Akira’s lips. “Seduction is a fun game only if you are the one winning, and oftentimes every player wins.”

Akira looked up at him, confused, and his smile widened fondly.

“However, not every man can be completely seduced, no matter how well you know his heart. Know that there are fights that you cannot win, and accept them.”

The younger man gaped at him, and Arsene chuckled.

“You have never—not _once_ —seduced me, Akira. And I sincerely hope I have not seduced you.” He kissed Akira’s hand gently. “I am like this, tender to you, because you are a dear friend to me, and you have become incredibly important to me.”

It all somehow fell into place, and Akira laughed softly.

“It’s _him_ , isn’t it?” He asked, and it was Arsene’s turn to look confused. “The guy I said I’d avenge for you. You love him.”

Arsene laughed, soft and dishonest.

“Love… is a very strange term to use for what we had.”

Akira shrugged, and cuddled close to him. “I wish I have someone like that, too.”

“Perhaps someday.” Arsene replied, hugging him. “Someday, you will find him.”

“Mm, yeah. I hope so too.”

* * *

“Hello? I know it seems rather inappropriate for me not to introduce myself, since I have been frequenting this store quite often nowadays…” The young man scratched his cheek awkwardly, and Akira blinked at him, but he eventually smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, seems fair. You already know _my_ name thanks to the name tag.” he chuckled, holding his hand out for the young man to shake. “Let’s do this over again. Hi, my name is Akira Kurusu.”

“Ah, yes, hello.” The young man smiled, shaking his hand. “My name is Yusuke Kitagawa.”

**Author's Note:**

> akira said "he's not scared" to arsene in french.
> 
> also, before i get fried for making akira "too ooc", he's a prostitute. he's playing up a certain act to please his customer. of course that's not how i would legitimately characterise him. thank you.


End file.
